


Michael Is Actually By Himself This Time

by aesthetic_trashcan



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gross, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I mean it doesnt happen in this though, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Maybe fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Triggers, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 04:15:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13539510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesthetic_trashcan/pseuds/aesthetic_trashcan
Summary: Michael thinks he's not good enough. Self Harm thoroughly depicted. I can't summarize. It's okay I promise.





	Michael Is Actually By Himself This Time

**Author's Note:**

> Uh..,,,,,trigger warning?

Now I’m just Michael in the bathroom. Michael in the bathroom by himself. He laughs coldly in spite of himself. Now he really is alone. His breaths come in short pained gasps beads of sweat rolling down his face. He looks down at his arm where he has a dismantled razor poised above his inner left arm ready to make the first cut. “Come on Michael it’s not that difficult. Down and pull. Easy huh?” He said laughing although it lacked any humor. 

There were small tiny almost meaningless scars across his arm. Just a few. Inconsequential. This is the first time he’s contemplated doing anything serious. God, he really is worthless he can’t even bring himself to complete a menial task such as this. 

A little thing about cutting? After the first one it’s not that hard. It’s just another task. Another blur of a thing within a blur of a day. So it became almost mechanical. Michael brought the razor down on his arm almost robotically a few drops of blood landing on the smooth tile of the bathroom. He sighed looking at it and then at his arm. 

God he was such a fuck up. There was no way Jeremy would like him after he saw this. He was a mess. A burden. A freak. A loser. And he was okay with it when he had Jeremy, but now he was off having fun with his new friends so where did that leave him. 

He stood and looked at himself in the mirror. The dark circles, the tired lifeless look in his eyes, the almost sick parlor to his skin, the feeble tears rolling down his cheeks. He was pathetic. Disgusting. He hated himself. Everything about himself. He wanted to die. 

He stood there another second just observing himself. Mentally noting all of the flaws he saw. The list never ended. He sighed and sank back down against the bathtub. God when was he going to get this write. He was scared. There he admitted it. He was scared of what could happen. But oddly enough his fear made him brave. Not the good kind of brave. The kind of brave when you're teetering on the edge of a cliff and just one little push. One misstep, would be all it took to send him tumbling over the edge. 

Tonight was his push, the final blow, the first step off the cliff. He was ready. Half an hour later he pushed himself off the floor and stumbled to the sink sweeping his hair out of his face. It stuck to his forehead which was coated in sweat. From nerves or something else he didn't know or care at this point. Hell this was it what does is matter anymore. He was done. This was his time.

A knock on the door brought him out of his fog. A voice in the darkness. Or more a whisper. a timid "Michael?" from the other side of the door and the doorknob shaking. Michael froze looking at the mess around him. The blood smeared on the tiles. His mop of hair, the sweat that left him feeling dirty. God he wasn't prepared for this. For him. 

He cleaned up the bathroom quickly and opened the door swaying slightly in the door way trying not to look down at his arm and flashed the boy before him a weak smile. "Jeremy" he said sadly as he watched Jeremy take in his surroundings. The draws hastily closed leaving them slightly open. The small pieces of plastic on the floor. Anything Michael couldn't clean up. And then Michael himself. Michael saw the exact moment his pity turned to sadness. And then fear as he realized what this meant. 

"Why?" he asked softly reaching for his hand just to have Michael pull his away at the last second. Jeremy had been all he had wanted, but now that he was standing right infront of him he wasn't prepared. He didn't want it. He wanted to slam the door in his face and cry. But he didn't of course. What was he supposed to tell him. How he felt worthless. About how even his best friend didn't like him enough to stick around. How he was a loser. How fucking pathetic he was. How hopelessly and unreasonably in love with him he was. He couldn't say any of that so he just shrugged. 

Jeremy sighed and tugged on his uninjured arm, but Michael just pulled his arm away again even quicker as if he'd been burned and shook his head. "Don't touch me" he said shaking his head. Jeremy nodded understanding and slowly walked him downstairs. He dug around for a minute before emerging with a bandage and a frown. "I don't want to bandage it. Just god let me die Jeremy. Let me go." he said, now faced with this situation hot tears were falling down his face. He wasn't prepared for this. For anything. He backed away grabbing a knife off the counter. "Don't" He repeated 

Jeremy looking shocked froze dropping the bandage and backed away "Michael calm down." he said but Michael refused "No go" he said firmly gripping the counter for support blood still streaming down his arm in almost mesmerizing red ribbons, his vision going fuzzy at the edges. He backed up and then as quick as he could retreated upstairs and locked his door and stared at his arms laughing again shaking his head at this turn of events as Jeremy bounded up the stairs pounding on the door. 

Michael laid down. He was so tired. Physically and mentally he was drained. He was done. He needed his best friend. He needed him so bad. But this is what he got. A short death. Nothing spectacular. He closed his eyes breathing shallowly as he faintly heard the door crash open and felt himself pulled into someone's arms but he was too far gone to react. Nothing. Ever again. No one can ever hurt me again. 

Game Over.


End file.
